


Reunion

by Kami_del_Antro



Series: Defiant Heart [3]
Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game), Guild Wars Series (Video Games)
Genre: Bound By Blood spoilers, F/F, Femslash, Fictober, Living World V, bound by blood, charr - Freeform, fictober19
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2020-11-15 01:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20858303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kami_del_Antro/pseuds/Kami_del_Antro
Summary: Kara Grimbane. Centurion. Priory Archivist. Commander of the Pact of Tyria.Reeva Grimfang. Legionnaire. Brawl afficionado. Party monster extraordinaire.It shouldn't work between them. But somehow, as all hell breaks loose around them, it does.





	1. Getting the band back together

**Author's Note:**

> I love Kara dearly; she was my, I think, 3rd gw2 character ever. But she's hard for me to write, even tho I have plans for her to develop. This all changed after Bound By Blood, and now I know exactly what am I gonna do with her, and with the extra push of Fictober19, I'll give her some love!

“Well, well, well,” Kara heard a familiar voice say. Brando perked up, whiping his tails with excitement. “But if it isn’t the Commander, the Dragonslayer, the Godkiller, the Priory Archivist, the missing Centurion!”

When she turned, she tried her best to keep her breathing steady, to little or no avail. Because Reeva was there; bright as the sun, slender like a saurian, and sporting that punchable smirk that earned them so many fights at The Bane. She was running at full speed, annoying Blood Legion’s guards and rustling the autumnal leaves as she ran through them. Grothmar valley seemed to come alive around her.

“Reeva,” Kara noted, stiff as the other charr ran up to hug her, and Brando stomped at the floor with his claws, in pure bliss. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean, ‘What am I doing here?’ Same thing as you, skritthead!” Reeva replied, raising up two beer pints on each claw. “Stealing Blood’s booze!”

“I’m here because I was summoned as an Iron Legion operative, Reeva,” Kara clarified, crossing her arms in a dignified scold. “We should be on our best behavior to meet Imperator Smoldur the Unflinching’s expectations.”

“Oh, always the buzzkiller, Kara,” Reeva rolled her eyes, offering her a pint that the Centurion rejected. “Ever since you joined that so-important guild of yours. Speaking of which…”

Her smirk became sharper, and she leaned in to whisper.

“Nice Dragon you have there, boss,” she said, grinning when Kara frowned. “A real asset to kill Bangar’s groove.”

“She’s not my dragon,” Kara murmured, clenching her fangs with unease. “The child comes and goes as she pleases. And you should call him Imperator Bangar Ruinbringer.”

“I was kidding,” Reeva hurried to clarify, elbowing her superior. “But for real, that show of force was impressive. I’m surprised Bangar didn’t immediately ordered that guild leader of yours to be kicked out, or worse.”

Kara lowered her gaze, thoughtful, and Reeva’s smile vanished for a second.

“I’ve been thinking about it myself,” Kara said, scratching her chin with one claw. “It isn’t like Imperator Bangar Ruinbringer to act so… forgiving.”

“You think he’s up to something?” Reeva uttered, conspirative. Kara glanced at her briefly, shaking her head.

“Whatever it is, we should keep our eyes peeled,” she ordered, sighing deeply. “It’s the only thing we can do for the time being.”

Reeva lowered her shoulders for a second, indecisive. But she suddenly perked up, enthusiastic again.

“Not the only thing, boss,” she clarified, raising her pints. “We can join the charrty!”

She then proceeded to drink up her four pints at once, lining them all in a cascade. Kara contemplated the show undeterred, wrinkling her snout when Reeva cleaned the foam from her mouth with a satisfied sigh.

“C’mon, Kara! Didn’t you miss your Warband?” she teased, leaning into her. “Because Grim sure as Bane missed you!”

For once, Kara hesitated. She had missed them all; Luccia, with her out-of-Tyria inventions; Cimmara, with her sharp words and even sharper sword. And Reeva. Reeva, the one with the plans that always went terribly wrong, but were fun either way. Reeva, the one who kept on making her come back to the Bane to kick some teeth out. Reeva, the one who could make her laugh thunderously, even as she tried to work on something important.

Reeva. Standing in front of her, teeth bared on a grin, eyes bright for missing them. For missing her.

“I promise I’ll keep my eyes open in case any weird stuff happens,” Reeva tried, her smile softening. “It’ll be fun. Trust me on this one.”

Kara would’ve trusted her to the ends of the Mists.

“Very well,” she grunted, stiffing up and saluting. “Kara Grimbane, Centurion under Smoldur the Unflinching, former Legionnaire of the Grim Warband, reporting in.”

“Oh shut up, stifftail,” Reeva joked, grabbing her arm and pulling. “Come! You won’t believe what Cimmara got herself into!”

Kara didn’t know what Cimmara had gotten herself into. But was willing to find out if Reeva was there.


	2. A first meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter! Couldn't publish yesterday but both fictober 3 and 4 are ready to go up.
> 
> PD: the image doesn't exactly correspond with the contents of the chapter but hey, I can't create charr cubs in the character creator so

Runt. Weak. Clumsy. Useless.

_ Traitor _.

Kara had heard them all, and she liked to think they stung less and less every time. She was, however, lying through her fangs.

Magic user. Fangless disgrace. Declawed loser.

Her breast pocket wiggled, and the young cub jumped a bit before retrieving the arachnid inside. The tiny whiptail devourer greeted her with a series of loud peeps, which Kara hurried to silence with pieces of curated meat out of her plate. 

Looking at the tiny thing happily eat, wiggling its tails around with a happy, muted chatter, made her smile, even if half of her face felt stiff and puffy still. Its pure joy about the simple pleasure of curated meat was enough to ease the pain, if only a little bit.

Once it finished its meal, it turned towards Kara, expectantly. The charr cub sighed.

“Fine, eat it all,” she grunted, delicately placing the devourer on her plate. The little bug disorderly moved its legs forward, nibbling on the meat, overjoyed.

“You can talk to bugs?” a loud voice called.

Kara got up in a hurry, baring her teeth and holding a tiny skinning knife. The devourer hurried to hide behind her legs, peeking from time to time. A yellow-haired, young charr cub was looking at her wide-eyed, her tail up in attention. She was taller than Kara, even if her slender frame made her less bulky and imposing.

“Why do you care?” Kara grunted, raising her knife. “Now piss off, or by Scorchrazor’s name I’ll gut you.”

“Why do I care?” the other cub asked, ignoring her threat. “Because that’s kinda cool. In a creepy way.”

The tiny devourer peeked once more from behind Kara, and met the charr cub’s eyes. The cub gasped, walking up to them and, once again, ignoring Kara’s knife in front of her.

“Neat!” she said, kneeling down. “Come here, buggy buggy.”

“I’m warning you, stay away-” Kara began, raising her knife. But to her surprise, the little devourer ran from her legs to the other cub’s hands, wiggling its tails around.

“Aw, he likes me!” she said. Kara lowered her knife, shocked and, a tiny bit, appalled. That devourer had been her only friend in the fahrar since everyone found out who her sire was. The fact that it betrayed her so easily was a pill hard to swallow. “Can I pet it? I have meat if it likes…”

She trailed off upon looking up, cocking her head to the side, curious.

“Did they beat you up?” she asked. Kara recoiled, covering half of her face with a paw.

“None of your business,” she grunted. The cub, however, observed her surroundings with neverending curiosity.

“It's that why you eat all by yourself, behind Ash’s tents?” she asked once more. Kara didn’t answer, feeling her eyes water. “I eat here because we’re not supposed to. Just like we’re not supposed to have pets and all that. Screw that I say! I’m old enough to bite a human’s arm off now, they can’t tell me what to do.”

Kara didn’t answer, still wary of her inopportune visitor. She suddenly perked up, wiggling her tail.

“Oh! Sure, ahem,” she cleared her throat, offering her paw to shake. “Name’s Reeva, my sire is Ravious Deathmaker, from the Maker Warband. How about you?”

Kara grunted, turning away from her and crossing her arms, ignoring her paw stretched. A lump on her throat threatened to break her composure, but she swallowed hard and ignored the empty feeling inside.

“My name is Kara,” she stated. “Just Kara.”

“Oh,” Reeva said simply. A pause. “Okay.”

Stunned, Kara even forgot to cry. She turned quickly, dumbfounded as Reeva was, still, waiting to shake paws. No insults. No threats. Just a nod, and a ‘okay’. The tiny devourer happily turned, encouraging Kara to make a move, but she was still full of doubt. And so, Reeva went ahead and grabbed her paw, shaking it enthusiastically.

“Aight Kara! This place is good, but not great for hiding an illegal pet, or eating alone. I found you after all!” Reeva said, pulling on her arm. “There’s a place more hidden up and with a better view!”

“Wait, I don’t-...” Kara attempted to pull her arm back, but Reeva insisted.

“C’mon! It’ll be fun!” she giggled, wagging her tail. The devourer chattered as well, excitedly running around Reeva’s legs. “Just follow me, I know the area.”

Kara wasn’t sure. The beating had been bad, and Reeva’s little act could very well be an elaborated trap to beat her up again. But the devourer seemed content, and Reeva’s smile was so genuine…

“Alright,” Kara murmured. “Show me.”


	3. Guilty whisky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to skip a prompt cuz I didn't know how to fit it here, but I'll come back to it later. For now, enjoy!

Euphoria. Kara wasn’t used to strong emotions - not since the fahrar, when anger overtook her. When shame was so ingrained in her she could feel it crawling under her fur. She downed her glass of charr whisky in a single sip, leaving her glass upside down on the bar. It wasn’t enough to drown the balloon of happiness on her chest.

The chants of her Warband came to her from far away, as she kept her gaze on the empty glass. They were joyful and enthusiastic, despite all that felt wrong, all that could go terribly bad. But, for once, as she fed Brando with tiny pieces of curated meat, Kara wasn’t thinking on duty, or on the task ahead.

Cimmara’s cubs were beautiful.

They were three -triplets, a blessing and a curse-, and they were strong, and funny. Cimmara had decided to leave them at the Blood’s fahrar instead of Iron’s, given it was her old Legion before joining the Grim Warband. They had seen them train, and fight, and bite, and they ran up to Cimmara to say hi, and were so impressed to meet a Commander of the Pact of Tyria, one of the founding members of the guild Defiant Heart.

She couldn’t understand why all that glee hurt so much. To see Cimmara’s cubs run around, leaders of a pack of terrible, terrible cubs. Magna, Pyrus, Cree: all heirs to their mother’s terrible temper, and sharp tongue.

“Need more whisky, pal?” the bartender asked. Kara nodded, grabbing the bottle from his hands and serving herself another glass.

Her Warband laughed, and she could feel Reeva’s eyes, suddenly on her. She hoped she couldn’t tell she was conflicted. Her hopes were in vain.

“You okay there, boss?” Reeva asked, and both Luccia and Cimmara turned to watch. Kara cleared her throat, pouring more whisky.

“Yes,” she replied, dry. Silence fell between them, and Kara drank a bit more to ease the tension.

“Bullcrap,” Reeva sharply interjected, crossing her arms. “Spit it out; I know you well enough to know when you’re lying.”

Kara clinked her claws on the glass, frowning. Her Warband -her friends, her family- awaited expectantly, as Brando chattered and poked her legs with his claws in an attempt to get more meat.

“I’m fine,” she grunted. No one replied, and Kara licked her fangs. “I’m not sad. I’m… happy. I missed you all.”

“You say you’re happy, cub,” Luccia mentioned, pointing at her with a pint of beer. “Yet you seem anything but.”

“You’re more grim than Imperator Bangar Ruinbringer after your dragon- I mean, Aurene rained on his parade,” Cimmara noted, wrinkling her nose.

“You smell of wet Flame shaman, Kara,” Reeva added, earning a couple of sneers from Flame soldiers on a nearby table. “And let me tell you: it doesn’t suit you at all.”

Kara flinched slightly when Reeva mentioned the Flame Legion, and diluted a bit of whisky on ice. She wanted to drink more, but her Warband was waiting for an answer, and wouldn’t let it go until they got it. Especially Reeva, Smoldur bless her, and Brando, clicking his pincers in protest for her aloofness.

“I…” she murmured, drumming her claws on the table. “Your cubs are amazing, Cimmara.”

“Hey, thanks,” she replied, grinning. “I know; they’re great.”

“Have they had a good time at the fahrar?” Kara then asked. Cimmara blinked, stunned.

“Y-yeah, I think,” she murmured.

“Are they happy? Are they safe?” Kara asked once more, under her breath. “Are they shunned? Beat up?”

The Grim Warband fell silent, and Kara suddenly felt Reeva’s paw on her shoulder, softly pressing down.

“I didn’t even know-...” Kara murmured, pressing her forehead on her hand. “I wish I could’ve been there when they were born. I wish they had met me when they were little. I wish-...”

“Boss,” Reeva said softly. Kara glanced at her from over her shoulder. “You were busy saving the world. It’s okay.”

Cimmara and Luccia nodded, Luccia raising her pint of beer to her. Kara felt a knot in her throat, but ignored it, and nodded back, finally giving Brando another piece of meat.

“I… We know,” Reeva proceeded, shaking Kara’s shoulder under her paw. “You didn’t ask for any of this.”

“I don’t- I…” Kara rubbed her face, shaking her head. “Thank you.”

A pause. Then, Reeva clapped her paws together, making Brando jump in excitement.

“Alright charr, chins and tails up!” she ordered. “As the Grim Warband’s Legionnaire, I order you all to have a great time at the demolition derby. How does that sound?”

“Yes!” Cimmara roared, fists in the air. “Now you’re talking!”

“Let me finish my beer and we’ll kick some Blood, Ash, and Fire tail,” Luccia replied, grinning. Then, they all turned towards Kara.

“Centurion Grimbane, care to join us?” Reeva asked, eyes narrow and smug smile. Kara sighed.

“Very well,” Kara agreed, getting up from the bar. “Let’s kick some tail.”

The three charr cheered, and alongside Brando, they followed their Centurion towards the arena.


	4. Grim

Reeva was giggling, despite her injuries, and Kara was inclined to believe the charr whisky was to blame. It numbed her pain as well, and she couldn't help but share her humor, for once.

The all-male charr Warband they had beat in The Bane would probably beg to differ.

"You're unbelievable!" Reeva celebrated, perhaps a little louder than necessary. "And to think you were a little ball of fur when I met you… Ha!"

Now Kara towered over her, and could carry Reeva on her shoulders with ease. She was also terrifyingly strong, even by charr standards, and her name was known and respected on The Bane.

"Those losers… they didn't- didn't know…"

Reeva gagged, and Kara hurried to put her down and help her bend over. She trembled, and clawed her scraped knees, before barfing on the side of the road towards Hero's Canton. Kara sighed, rubbing the back of her neck as she trembled once more.

"You're not good with whisky," she chastised. "You should know by now."

"Worth… it," Reeva replied, cleaning her mouth with her arm. Kara rolled her eyes.

"Tell me again: why did I had to beat up five enraged males?" she asked, helping Reeva stand up straight. She took a moment to breathe, before turning towards Kara and smirking.

"Their flirting sucked."

They both laughed, Kara shaking her head once more.

"Males tend to suck at flirting," Kara conceded. "We also have claws and teeth and horns. It's nothing to brag about."

"Yeah…" Reeva stated, staring off into the distance. Then, she frowned. "Want to know something, Kara?"

"Huh?" she asked, preparing to carry Reeva back home.

"I don't think I like males."

Kara froze, and something moved inside of her. Suddenly, the night was full of prying eyes, and a spotlight shone on her, awaiting her response.

"What?" she murmured. Reeva seemed undeterred.

"Well, males are alright, I guess, from a distance," she explained, wrinkling her snout. "But I mean, have you seen females?"

Reeva made a purring sound, smirking once more. Kara blinked.

“I suppose I have,” she pondered, suddenly feeling all too sober. She had never considered being courted at all, but Reeva’s words made her nervous, and a bit jittery.

The worst part was that Kara didn’t even know why was she so uneasy all of the sudden. Especially since Reeva seemed so relaxed, a lazy smile on her face as she slowly swayed from side to side.

“Yeah… soft fur, big claws, big horns…” Reeva muttered, suddenly yawning. “That’s the stuff…”

And she fell on her face, making Kara jump on all fours and roar, alarmed.

“Reeva?” Kara murmured, poking her side with one of her claws. Reeva whined, but didn’t move.

After fruitlessly trying to get her up, Kara simply lifted her to her shoulders once more, carrying her limp body towards her room. She’d rather focus on the effort than in Reeva’s words, but in the silence of the night, avoiding the voices in her head was an impossible task.

Kara had always thought that her disinterest in males was simply a result of being too busy making herself useful. Unlike some -unlike Reeva herself, for example-, she had a lot to prove, a cursed blood to surpass. She had managed to spark Iron’s Warbands attention with her intellect, and Blood’s Warbands with her willingness to draw swords at the slightest provocation. But she was well aware than any slip-off would mean her demise.

Reeva confused her. Was, simply, not liking males a thing? Was that…  _ allowed _ ? It wasn’t as if Reeva was too preoccupied about rules anyway, but Kara was very much worried about them.

With her mind troubled, Kara left Reeva on her bedding with as much delicacy as possible, and contemplated her with a deeply furrowed brow. She wasn’t sure she understood the logic of liking  _ anybody _ . As long as it was only Reeva and her, she would be fine, or so she thought.

“Hey…” Reeva suddenly babbled with her eyes closed, and Kara quickly looked away, embarrassed for some reason. “Hey Kara… Remember that… that Grim Howl guy?”

“Howl ‘The Brazen’ Grimblade, from the Grim Warband,” Kara murmured, crossing her arms. “What about him?”

“You thought ‘bout it?”

Kara remained silent. She had avoided thinking about him at all, since right after his offering those Rage assholes tried to get all personal with Reeva, and she ended up kicking some teeth in The Bane. She wasn’t sure Iron’s high command would approve of such an attitude.

“Cuz I have,” Reeva muttered, half-asleep already.

“I thought you’d rather have your own Warband than join an existing one,” Kara replied, confused.

“I mean… yeah, but…” Reeva seemed about to trail off, but she suddenly opened her eyes once more. “It would be… a killer name.”

“Which name?” Kara questioned. Reeva giggled softly.

“Grimbane,” she explained. “Kara Grimbane. Terror of The Bane.”

Kara felt her cheeks heat up, and cleared her throat.

“You should think about your name first, my friend,” she warned, crossing her arms. “Something about how much of a lightweight you are.”

“Nah, something like… like Grimdance… cuz I’m the bestest dancer in the whole Hero’s Canton,” Reeva declared, raising her fist in the air and dropping it limp beside her. “That would be... nice.”

“Enough ideas, Reeva,” Kara sentenced, sitting beside her and removing her armguards. “Time to sleep.”

“Aight, aight…” Reeva replied, waving her, now lighter, arm around. “If you keep being so sweet, I might kiss you.”

She giggled once more, and then her head fell limp to one side, snorting loudly. And Kara remained frozen in place, contemplating her sleeping friend with a pit of panic on her stomach.


	5. Defiant Hearts

Kara’s communicator wouldn’t stop lighting up. She glanced at it from time to time over on her workbench, sniffing the air around her, trying to decide if they needed her or not. She had never ran away from duty. But sometimes the guild managed to solve its own problems, and Reeva wanted to go ask Metal Legion for their autographs, and-...

She sighed, and grabbed the device from her workbench before opening her channel, leaving it back on the hardened wooden surface. But before she could even report in, Rytlock's voice boomed in her tent at the Iron Legion's camp, earning an excited squeak from Brando.

"-is a good diplomat, I guess doing what she says wouldn't hurt."

"I'm not sure they want to talk to  _ me _ , of all people," Sinéad snarled. "All that 'charr above all' stuff irks me to no end."

"Scared, Steinbrecher?" Giralein joked, and she could hear Kyrie and Rytlock snort with amusement. "It doesn't suit you."

"I am scared," Sinéad said through clenched teeth. "Scared I'm gonna punch a hole in an Imperator's face and make things worse. Kyrie's the diplomat."

It was, maybe, time to intervene. Their dilemma was obvious enough anyway.

"And I am charr," Kara suggested with a sigh. "I can talk to my Imperator if the guild needs it."

Kara heard her guildmates’ stunned silence upon her sudden appearance after an, honestly, long radio silence. But then, she could hear them going "Huh" one after another, and couldn't help but smirk. Rytlock, however, grunted softly, doubtful.

"I don't know, cub," he said. Kara frowned. She hadn’t heard that one in a long time.

"Cub?"

"You've been away for so long, they might've forgotten you're charr at all."

Nobody dared replying, and suddenly the silence was tense, rather than expectant. Kara huffed through her nose, as Brando tried to call her attention with the clicker of its pincers.

"My guild needs me, and I won't desert now," she grunted. "I will talk to Imperator Smoldur and smooth things out."

“The situation is getting tenser by the minute, and you know how this might end,” Rytlock grunted. “We both know. You’re not prepared to assume the risk.”

“Though I’m grateful about your worrying about me, Tribune, I must disagree,” Kara grunted back, placing her paws on her workbench, hunching over her communicator. “I have faced enough dangers before for you to trust me on this.”

"Grimbane, I'm a Tribune and I forbid it," Rytlock snarled. "The personal risk you're assuming is-..."

"I'm aware," she cut him, throwing a piece of curated meat towards Brando to calm him down. "Your point? Besides, you might be a Tribune, but I'm the Commander."

"...this is really awkward, you know?" Gorrik murmured, but Kyrie ignored him to reply.

"Is there something we might not know about this situation?" she asked, soft spoken as she was.

"It's fine," growled Rytlock, but Kara finally decided to talk.

"I have a hunch," she said. "But I need to confirm my suspicions. And for that, I need to know if I can count with my Imperator's support."

After a brief silence, where Kara hunched over her communicator even further, Kyrie sighed.

"Very well," she agreed. "I think we need someone who already has part of the High Legions' trust."

“I am part of the High Legions as well, Sirhasi,” Rytlock grunted, but the norn ignored him as well.

“Kara’s a proven ally and has been a powerful asset ever since the inception of this guild,” Kyrie exposed, which made Kara huff slightly. “I believe it would be wise to let her guide us in charr diplomacy, given her background.”

“She has proven her metal in the Legions; I can attest to that,” Giralein also intervened, a bit harsher than Kyrie. “I vouch for her as well.”

“She  _ did _ try to kick my ass and had a lot of fans in the charr arena,” Sinéad also recalled. “Yeah, sounds good to me.”

“Thank you, all of you,” Kara nodded, leaning back. “I’ll report in again once I have more information.”

“We’ll be standing by, waiting for your word,” Kyrie assured her. “The rest of you, keep up appearances. Help whenever someone needs help, participate in any and all events that might boost our public profile, and for the love of Bear, someone find Braham.”

“On it,” Sinéad said, suddenly amused. “Hey Bluefire, I heard there’s an ooze pit to fight in. Wanna bet I kill more than you?”

“Oh, you’re  _ on _ , Steinbrecher,” Giralein replied, and both their communicators cut off. Kyrie sighed.

“Very well, Sirhasi out,” Kyrie announced. Kara nodded.

“Kara out as well,” she murmured. But right as she was about to cut off her device, she heard Rytlock’s low grunt.

“Be careful, cub.”

Kara shook her head, sighing, and packing her communicator on her bag before heading out the tent, with Brando still trying to get her attention, pincers up. But before she could take a step out, she found herself face to face with Reeva, who seemed all too conspicuous to be natural. Brando raised his pincers towards her, pointing accusatively.

“Uh, hey!” Reeva said, briefly waving her paw. “I came to get you to go to the bar now. Thought you might’ve forgotten.”

Kara blinked, and then grabbed Reeva by the wrist to pull her inside her tent. Reeva protested, but didn't try to break loose from her iron grip.

"How much-..."

"Did I hear?" Reeva cut her, eyes piercing Kara's. "Enough, I'd say."

Kara breathed in deeply, and exhaled slowly, deliberately.

"You must understand that although the Legions' power is absolute, and the chain of command must be respected, Bangar is an issue to address with care," she explained, claws on Reeva's shoulders. "This accumulation of power and prestige is unprecedented - during peacetime. We've been fighting Fire for centuries, and now we're suddenly expected to welcome them with open arms, because 'charr above all'. I ain't buying it. There's something rotten within. I believe ..."

She hesitated. But Reeva stepped closer, putting a paw on one of Kara's arms.

"You believe he wants to be Khan-Ur," she softly said. Kara lowered her gaze. "He wants to overthrow Smoldur's authority."

"Affirmative," Kara muttered, eyes still down, bitter.

Reeva pondered quietly, humming under her breath. Then, she perked up, golden eyes gleaming with slight amusement.

“And you wanted to do it all by yourself,” she teased. Kara frowned, finally looking up. “Playing the hero, as always.”

“That’s not what I-...”

“Look, I stand by what I said earlier,” Reeva explained, raising her paws in a placating gesture. “You’re always busy saving the world. I get it. But this time it’s not the world: is my Smoldur-given right to party. Bangar can choke on the barrel of my gun before I let him ruin the festivities.”

“Reeva, as your Centurion, I won’t let you do this,” Kara snarled, crossing her arms. “This is my responsibility with Defiant Heart. The risk you would take by joining me-...”

“Ugh, you sound like Brimstone,” Reeva pointed out, wrinkling her snout. Kara dropped her shoulders, stunned. “Just let us into the secret, boss. I’m good at sneaking around and pretending I know less than I do. We can get into Smoldur’s good side again, let him know we’re on his side this time. I don’t really like humans, but you seem to trust them, so I trust them too.”

Kara attempted to reply, but she finally sighed and dropped her arms to the side. Reeva gifted her the most punchable grin imaginable, victorious.

“Very well. We’ll probe Imperator Smoldur, see how much of our theory he takes seriously,” Kara accepted, raising a claw to stop Reeva from interrupting. “Then, and only then, we’ll tell the rest of Grim about the situation at hand. This is a delicate matter, and it should be treated as such.”

“On one condition,” Reeva pointed out. Kara frowned.

“I’m listening.”

“Tell me why on Tyria does Rytlock call you ‘cub’.”

Kara blinked, and suddenly felt her face hot. She growled softly, grabbing her longbow on her way out, followed by Brando, close to her ankles.

“Tribune Brimstone liked the way I fought in the Bane, said it reminded him of his own teenage years. Afterwards, he had the tendency to try to take me under his wing,” she explained, pointing towards the exit of her tent. “He eventually stopped trying. Hasn’t called me that for years now. We haven’t kept in touch, anyway.”

“Ah,” Reeva said, dropping tension from her shoulders. “Okay.”

If there was a hint of relief in Reeva’s words, Kara would prefer not to know. Not now, that duty was finally calling her back into action.


	6. Sins of the father

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why don't you project some daddy issues into your ocs and maybe you'll feel better

“It was a matter of time,” Seneca grunted, spitting at the ground in front of the cell. “You might’ve given me the slip once, but now Imperator Smoldur will decide your fate.”

Clement Forktail didn’t look up from the cold, hard floor of his prison. Seneca chuckled.

“No snarky remarks? You really thought betraying your new friends would give you the High Legion’s pardon?” once again, he spat at the floor. “You’re as naive as your cub.”

“At least, my judgement will free her from my shadow,” Clement muttered.

“Ha!” Seneca taunted. “Once a traitor, forever a traitor. Your mud-stained hands have already dirtied her legacy. An execution? That’ll make matters worse. Make her show her true colors.”

“She’s noble, and loyal,” Clement said; a smile appearing on his tormented face. “She’s all I’ll never be. All you wish you were.”

Seneca roared, suddenly cracking his whip on the bars of the cell. Clement flinched.

“You disgusting Flame traitors,” the jailer sneered. “I’ll cheer when they cut your head tomorrow, you-”

The sound of metal on bone echoed through the prison, as Seneca stood still and quiet for a brief moment before dropping on the ground like dead weight. Behind him, Kara stood quiet, broadsword in hand, having bashed Seneca’s head with the heavy handle. Clement raised his ears and tail, suddenly tense.

“You-...”

“No time to talk,” she grunted, grabbing a key from her belt. “Be quiet, and stay close.”

She opened the door from the cell, stepping aside to let him out. Still Clement stood petrified in place.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked. Kara grimaced.

“You paid your due, and saved Imperator Smodur from your former allies,” she pointed out. “Carrying on with an execution in these terms it’s an injustice.”

Clement found her daughter stone-faced; not a trace of familial love on her stern expression. It broke his heart, even if he understood all too well.

“I can’t let you do this,” he said, lowering his head. “Do you know what will happen to you if you’re found?”

Kara’s eyes burned into him.

“I do.”

“Then let me die in peace, with a clear conscience,” he pleaded. “I’ve done so much evil. Allow me this satisfaction.”

She roared, stepping inside to force him outside, but Clement lit up his hands in conjuring form, calling up flames to make her stop.

“Don’t be stubborn, Forktail,” Kara grunted. Clement chuckled.

“I was about to say the same,” he noted. Kara narrowed her eyes. “What’s what they say? Thicker than water?”

Seneca whined on the floor, so Kara called up vines to tie and muzzle him with a gesture. Clement followed her movements with mesmerized eyes, despite her obvious rage.

“Why are you in such a hurry to die?” she interrogated him, one paw inside the cell. “I’m risking everything that I’ve worked so hard for to see you live another day. Do you understand what’s on the line here?”

“And for what?” Clement lamented. Kara stiffened, taken aback. “I’m a failure. Of a soldier, and of a shaman. I was too naive, too weak-willed, too fearful. The only thing I’ve ever done in my life is saving the Imperator’s life. The only thing I’m proud of, the only good and pure thing I’ve done… aside from you, Kara.”

For the first time in her life, Kara felt something. Something vast, and terrible, and empty. A gaping hole on her chest, a sudden rift on her soul. She didn’t understand such pain. She didn’t have any way to frame it, to explain it, to chart it and tear it apart and assemble it again.

“Look at you,” he murmured, shaking his head as he gave her a tearful smile. “A Legionnaire! Headstrong, powerful, complete. With a moral compass made of deldrimor steel. With friends… and a future. And not thanks to me.”

The feeling became overwhelming, and Kara saw her vision clouded by unwelcome tears. Why was she suddenly so devastated? Why did she feel so raw, hurt? Clement stepped closer, but she stepped backwards as he advanced towards her.

“It’s enough of a gift to see you again, Kara,” Clement confessed. “You don’t have to give me life as well. I understand that your place is with the Legions. Let me go; now out of your own volition, and know that you’ve made me unbelievably happy. I love you, cub.”

“Enough!” she roared, her fur standing on end. “I’ve heard enough. My duty is with my people, and my people demand justice. Don’t be mistaken, Forktail; this isn’t out of fraternal love. This is about justice - nothing else.”

Her breathing was ravaged, and she was suddenly trembling from horns to tail. _ Why? _ Why did she care so much? Why was she so affected by the charr who ruined her life? Why did his words hurt even more than his silent absence?

They contemplated each other in silence. Behind Kara’s eyes there was a storm; behind Clement’s, the placid acceptance of old age and older mistakes. Finally he lowered his head.

“I understand,” he murmured. “Lead the way, Legionnaire.”

After a brief moment of hesitation, Kara moved aside, heading towards the circular door of the Stockade. Clement followed without another word.

As they ran outside, Kara whistled towards Brando, who joined them with a clacker of pinsirs and excited chatter. Clement noted two Adamant guards paralized on the floor, with nasty bumps where the devourer had stung them.

Kara was quick to deliver precise punches to leave the guards out of commission, but she was equally gifted with calling vines and ivy to her aid. Brando and her worked in synergy; a synergy beyond mere training or mutual understanding.

As they neared the asura gate, the guards thinned out, but a loud siren echoed throughout the Black Citadel’s metallic walls. Brando raised his pinsirs, as Kara looked behind and snarled.

“Seneca,” she muttered, before turning towards Clement. “He must’ve sounded the alarm. You need to get going.”

He nodded, but glanced at Brando with ardent curiosity.

“You’re a natural ranger,” he noted. “Nature itself seems to bend to your will.”

He then looked up at Kara, who contemplated him with suspicion.

“There’s powerful magic in such talent.”

She winced, and Clement lowered his ears in response.

“I’m sorry, cub.”

“Just leave.”

She lowered her gaze, but glanced up at him one last time. He was smiling, and from his eye fell a lone tear.

“I’m honored to be your sire,” he said. “I’ll see you around.”

He turned and ran for the asura gate towards Lion’s Arch, as Kara turned to face the Adamant guard with her hands up as she knelt. They grabbed her and Brando -who also raised up his tails in surrender-, but weren’t violent or murderous in their intent.

Confused, Kara looked up towards the Imperator’s Core.

Rytlock Brimstone met her gaze, as he contemplated the scene from the window of his office with a grim, unreadable expression. But, for some reason, Kara felt no fear upon meeting the Tribune’s eyes.


	7. Unflinching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this fic in october 2019, this was as far as I got before my country exploded.
> 
> This aged like milk. Angsty, angsty milk.

Kara wasn’t supposed to report directly to Imperator Smoldur. After all, she used to be merely a Centurion before _ everything _ happened. She chatted up with him from time to time, but it was a rare occurrence. The chain of command was to be respected.

But, what was even the chain of command anymore? She had saved the world _ four times _ now. For once in her lifetime, she thought it wouldn’t be bad to abuse her fame a little bit.

As they got closer to Iron’s encampment, Kara felt her ears stiff. Smoldur was giving out orders and keeping the furnace going, with his usual sneering sternness. He was a good leader, Kara thought - wise enough to stop a senseless war when there were more important things on the table, at great personal risk. If there was someone she wanted to emulate as a Centurion, it was Smoldur.

“There he is,” Reeva muttered; her tail furiously whipping the air behind her. “The big boss.”

“You’ve covered for me,” Kara pointed out, glancing at her from over her shoulder. “Hasn’t Tribune Goreblade introduced you?”

Reeva chuckled.

“I’m not you, boss,” she explained, shrugging. “That old wrench Bhuer would rather have me scrubbing tanks for the rest of my life than heed a single word of what I say.”

“But I was the one who assigned you as Legionnaire,” Kara muttered, frowning. “I left explicit instructions about your duty in the Legions, and I told Tribune Goreblade that you were of my full trust, and-”

“Kara,” Reeva interrupted, raising her paws towards Kara’s face and holding her to glance deep into her eyes. “You wonderful, naive nerd. I’m not Rytlock’s little prodigy. I’m not an Iron Legion star. I’m just me. I’m just Reeva.”

Kara would’ve loved to say many things. That Reeva was smarter than people gave her credit for, that she was a born warrior, a loyal friend, a wonderful charr fit to command with a cheerful nod and a firm hand. But she couldn’t; not when Reeva smirked at her, playfully slapping her cheeks.

“You do the talking,” she suggested. “I’ll probably just screw it up.”

Her thoughts dissolved into nothing, and her face heated up. Even when Reeva retired her hands, she could still feel her touch on her fur. She was so close; a smile so bright, sharp fangs dipping into her lower jaw. Kara’s pupils went from slits to orbs as she contemplated her friend and colleague.

“Certainly,” she babbled, clearing her throat and looking away. Reeva wagged her tail.

“Great! Because I suck at talking to important people without insulting them.”

She then hid behind Kara, giving her a thumbs up when she glanced at her from over her shoulder. Kara sighed, clenching her hands to fists, and finally advancing towards the Imperator of the Iron Legion, with Reeva at her heels.

As they made their approach, Smoldur raised his ears, turning stone-faced towards the pair. Upon seeing Kara, however, a smirk adorned his maw.

“But if it isn’t the brightest star in all of charr firmament,” he greeted her, crossing his arms. Kara could feel Reeva’s claw on the small of her back; a silent ‘I told you so’.

“Imperator Smoldur,” Kara replied, with a brief nod. “I’ve been looking forward to talking to you again.”

“One wouldn’t guess,” he said, irony slathering his words. “You seem busy killing Dragons. Or is it raising them? It’s hard to keep track these days.”

Kara’s ears perked up, tail suddenly tense.

“I didn’t-... It was just a misunderstanding,” she stuttered, but Smoldur waved his hand with a chuckle.

“In any case, you’re an inspiring figure, _ Commander _,” he pointed out. “Why don’t you inspire your people and fix this engine over here? Teach the cubs how it is done.”

With his chin, he pointed towards an open engine; silent in the middle of the mechanical symphony around them. Kara opened her mouth, glancing at Smoldur, and meeting his stern, one-eyed stare. She nodded.

“Certainly, Imperator.”

She knelt in front of the complex machinery, assessing the damage and frowning. There wasn’t rust or burnt marks, there weren't exhausted gears or badly oiled cogs, or the smell of burning rubber, or signs of an explosion. Only clean cuts, carefully picked cables and joints, cut with a specialized tool.

“The main engage is missing,” she mumbled. Kara glanced at Reeva with a look of worry, finding her spying over her shoulder.. “Bring me two regular multi-wired converters, and one small power core.”

“Wouldn’t that cause some feedback?” Reeva questioned, tilting her head.

“I’ll make it work.”

Reeva brought the spare pieces needed, and Kara, using her claws as pliers, began the delicate process. She cut, tied, and mended broken engages, humming to herself whenever she found a new problem, working around it to fix whatever issues she found. She barely noticed Smoldur inspecting her work, raising his eyebrows as she wielded loose ends and worked a power loop to avoid feedback and rapid exhaustion. Finally, she fixed a loose screw, examining her work before closing the engine lid and kickstarting the system again.

The engine huffed and began moving, the potency reaching unseen levels. Reeva whistled, as Kara nodded approvingly and stood up.

“Impressive work,” Smoldur commented, arms still crossed. “Unorthodox, for sure, but a solution nonetheless. Sometimes that’s what’s needed, in these uncertain times. In any case, it’s refreshing to see you still appreciate the fine art of working complex machinery.”

“There’s a certain taste to it,” Kara said, without raising her eyes from her work.

She wiped out the sweat from her forehead, and rubbed the oil off her claws. After all these years, she was still a bit nervous about working in front of people but that was hardly her only concern. She frowned at the engine, uneasiness settling in as she inspected what was left of the original piece. Or more like it, what was missing.

“Anything unusual, Commander?” Smoldur asked. Kara blinked.

“This isn’t a malfunction,” Kara explained, a claw on the engine. “The work is too careful, too precise. Whoever did this knew what they were doing, and what they wanted to cause.”

Reeva raised her ears, suddenly nervous. Kara glanced at them both, breathing in deeply.

“This is sabotage,” she stated. Smoldur smirked once again.

“Renegade sabotage, to be precise,” he pointed out. “Very observant.”

He chuckled once more, as Reeva and Kara exchanged a meaningful look.

“The life of a Commander is a busy one, very much like an Imperator’s,” he stated, narrowing his eye. “I figure you’re not here to play with mechanical toys. Tell me what you really want.”

Kara nodded, getting closer.

“Imperator Smoldur, after the opening ceremony, my associates and I have…” she paused, wrinkling her snout. “Concerns.”

“I’m listening.” Smoldur nodded, eye shimmering. Kara suspected he already knew what she was about to say.

“About Bangar.”

A low, savage growl left Smoldur’s throat. Kara was sympathetic to the feeling.

“After careful consideration, we’re certain this ‘unity’ is pure rhetoric,” she explained. “This sudden urgency to enforce the ties of our race, to forget the division of Legions, to stir up nationalist sentiments, turn a blind eye to attacks on humans and other races…”

She glanced at Reeva, who nodded encouragingly.

“We believe he’s trying to force his hand to be Khan-Ur,” Kara said. Smoldur hummed.

“We seldom need a warlord,” he murmured. “If there were to be a new Khan-Ur, we need someone with enough vision to really unite all Charr under the same banner.”

A pause.

“Someone like you,” Kara let out. Smoldur met her eyes, stone-faced.

“Bangar soughts power, not unity. He opposed the Ebonhawke Treaty, threatening a civil war,” he explained. “He only caved because of Fire’s pressure. That, and he knew he’d lose.”

“He’s dangerous,” Kara muttered.

“He’s old, and so’s his thinking,” Smoldur pointed out, looking over Iron’s encampment. “For someone who talks big about the future, he sure clings to the past.”

After one more brief glance towards Reeva, Kara stepped up once more, examining the intricate flow of the camp in motion.

“Imperator: you’ve supported me every step of the way towards making Tyria a place of peace,” she brought up. “Towards uniting all races to oppose the rise of the Elder Dragons. You understand we’re not here to seize power, or to terrorize Charr into submission. Aurene… the young Crystal Dragon is not the main threat here. You know that. You have the vision Bangar lacks - you’ve shown it again and again.”

Smoldur chuckled one last time.

“The other Imperators have yet to see it,” he lamented. “With Kralkatorrik gone, might be time we all sat down, have a little chat…”

Discreetly, Reeva pumped her fist, as Kara sighed in relief.

“I’m glad we can count with your foresight, Imperator,” Kara said, bowing in front of him. Smoldur nodded once.

“You’ve proven to have sharp instincts,” he stated. “And to have your loyalties in the right place. I’ll take your concerns to heart, for they echo mine.”

“Thank you, Imperator,” Kara said, before turning towards Reeva.

Now they had grounds to investigate properly. Now, maybe, they’ll be able to disarticulate whatever Bangar was planning on doing before he could make another move. Reeva grinned as they turned to leave, before Smoldur cleared his throat.

“Oh, and Commander,” he called, making them both turn. “I’m glad to have your trust.”

Kara smiled; a rare smile of gratitude.

“Always, Imperator.”


End file.
